


Let's Just Forget the World.

by PippinPips



Series: Birthday Ficlets [7]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, One-sided affections, Serial Killer, birthday fic, creepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinPips/pseuds/PippinPips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not supposed to be here, but that doesn't stop him. He wants to be even closer if he can. </p><p>A story for Marourin's Serial Killer!Verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Just Forget the World.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marourin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marourin/gifts).



> This is basically a minifill to the beautiful things Roo draws. Beautifully creepy. This was posted for her birthday on Tumblr and is now moved here.

The apartment is messy, but not in the way that it’s slob like. He couldn’t stand it if it were more like a messy child than a harried detective, but it also makes his job just a little more difficult. He steps over the piles of papers only glancing down to see what exactly it is. A smile crosses his face. Well of course. He reads over the paper, eyes skittering over the words and they burn into his mind. This is what the man thinks, this is what he notices. A slow smile comes over his face when he finishes the papers. Soon he returns to picking through the piles.

Then there’s the bedroom, sheets twisted like the occupants nightmares chased them from sleep into wake. A smile curls along his lips. He touches the sheets fingers gliding along the twisted fabric. It’s cool to the touch, but he doesn’t expect heat. His _friend_ will be at work since 7 a.m. and he knows he won’t return until late, especially with the heavy caseload. He lifts the sheets and brings them to his nose, taking in a deep breath. The scent is still on it, but just barely. There is a scent of sweat that comes from the dreams he knows plagues his dear friend. He lets the sheets fall before he strips off his clothes. Folding them neatly to the right of the bed, he sets them in a neat pile.

The bed is chilly against his skin, but that doesn’t matter to him, not when the scent is all over the bed. He drags a hand down along his torso and chest before cupping his cock. He’s been half hard since he opened the door the apartment. Stroking himself, he shifts his legs along the mess that are the sheets. He’s thankful, if only for a moment, that the best started as a mess, but even if it was neat he knows he has the attention to detail to fix it all. He swipes his thumb across the head of his cock and moans, delighted as the sensation as it pulses through him. He teases himself until he’s completely hard. Bringing his palm to his mouth, he licks it long and slow leaving a wet stripe along it, and then he brings his hand back to his cock. Once more he strokes slowly enjoying the slow build-up. It was a low burn in his groin before his balls tightened and he spills over his hand. It’s a few heartbeats before he moves again, cleaning his skin carefully. He catches himself in the mirror, his eyes catch on his reflection.

Sharp cheekbones, tousled hair, and a serious expression greet him. He doesn’t spend much time taking in his appearance, he knows what he is to society and he knows how to use his gifts in the ways that makes society shake and shiver. He brushes his fingers against the mirror and wonders what his _friends_ sees when he looks in. He knows how he sees his friend, all blue eyes, red mouth and strained expressions twisting over a usually handsomely innocent face. Stepping back away from his doppelganger he turns back to the bedroom and collects he clothing. All of his movements are slow, cautioned, and even he doesn’t want to let his friend to know exactly how far he’s gotten into his home. He pulls on his shirt and pants before he checks the apartment once more. The moment everything is to his satisfaction he leaves the apartment, but not before he places a note upon the outside of the door.

Inside the note it reads:

 _Lovely building you live in Detective Xavier. Too bad the door is a little sticky, maybe next time?_     


End file.
